


only bought this dress so you could take it off

by HeartonFire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hunter Dean, Hunter Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Smut, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 14:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: Dean has known Ali for a long time, but she always thought he saw her as a friend, nothing more. After a vampire hunt goes slightly awry, she can't help herself from confessing something.





	only bought this dress so you could take it off

**Author's Note:**

> This story popped into my head while I was listening to "Dress" on Taylor Swift's new album. I thought it would be a fun scenario to explore, so I wrote this between NaNoWriMo updates. 
> 
> Specifically based on these lyrics:  
> Say my name and everything just stops  
> I don't want you like a best friend  
> Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off
> 
> Enjoy!

Ali sank back into the leather seat of the Impala, adjusting her dress so it would cover another inch of her legs. It was a scrap of sparkly silver fabric that hugged every single one of her curves. She had hidden it under a coat until she got into the car, too embarrassed for the Winchesters to see her like this. She never wore anything other than jeans and t-shirts when they worked together, but this case required something a little more daring than that. They had gone shopping to find her something appropriate, and she just could not get comfortable in it.

“You okay back there?” Dean asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Too cold?”

She scowled at him and he laughed, voice rough from nights of too much whiskey and too little sleep.

She remembered the first time she had met him, back when he was a gangly fifteen-year-old kid, all arms and legs and a jacket that was way too big. She was a kid then too, no older than eight or nine, but she had followed him around like he knew all the secrets of the universe.

And he sort of did, compared to her. Her dad was old friend with John Winchester, helping him with research and lore, but he never told her about the life or the monsters that went along with it. He sheltered her in a way that Dean and Sam never knew, and she always thought they were just trying to scare her when they would tell her all the things they saw in their travels on their visits once or twice a year.

It was only after a wendigo killed her dad that she learned the truth, and she had never forgiven herself for being so blind to what was really going on. The Winchesters had been there for the funeral, and she had tried to stay in touch, but they were always all over the place. It wasn’t until she decided to become a hunter herself that they had started to contact her regularly. They hunted together sometimes, and she counted both of them among her closest friends. She always knew she could call them if she needed anything.

They happened to be in the same town when a vampire nest started wreaking havoc, luring impressionable, lonely young women from a club to feed on them or turn them, depending on how attractive they found them.

That was where Ali came in. She had just turned twenty-seven, right in the middle of the target range of this particular group of vamps, and they were on their way to the club to see if they could get the nest to take the bait. She wasn’t sure how she felt about playing bait, but she trusted the Winchesters, and she wanted to take these vamps down before anyone else got hurt.

Ignoring the rush of cold air when she opened the door, Ali took off her coat and steadied herself on her too-tall heels. She heard Dean let out a low whistle when he saw her complete outfit and felt a blush rising in her cheeks.

“You sure you want to go in there?” Sam asked, brown eyes focused on her face.

“I’m not sure the vamps will be able to get anywhere near you,” Dean muttered. “It’s everyone else we’re going to have to worry about.”

Ali ignored him, throwing back her wavy blonde hair and starting towards the door. He loved to flirt and tease anything in a skirt, but she knew he didn’t mean it. She had tamped down those feelings a long time ago and she wasn’t looking to revisit them. He was one of her best friends, and as much as she wished they could be more, he saw her as his kid sister, nothing more.

 

* * *

 

The inside of the club was overwhelming, to say the least. Light flashed, music blasted, and there were bodies everywhere. If they hadn’t been there on a case, Ali would have bolted at the first rush of noise that hit her. Clubs were completely not her thing.

Instead, she felt Dean’s hand on her back as he led her to the bar. “We’ll be right over there,” he said, nodding at the corner of the bar, where Sam had already found a seat. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He laughed and withdrew his hand, leaving her alone in the sea of writhing people. She knew the point was to entice men to approach her, but she missed his presence as soon as he was gone.

“Buy you a drink?” a man said, leaning in to encroach on her personal space a little too much for her liking.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling even as she choked down the disgust she was really feeling. “Martini with a twist, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said, baring a grin that was all pointy canines. Ali was sure this was one of the vampires they were looking for, and she shot a glance over to Dean and Sam. Sam nodded, rising from his seat, but Dean didn’t even seem to notice. He was too busy staring daggers at the man whose hand had drifted from Ali’s wrist to her waist, tugging her closer to him as he handed her the chilled glass. At a nudge from Sam, he stood, still glaring as he disappeared into the crowd.

“Should we get out of here?” she asked, batting her eyelashes and fighting down the urge to kick him in the balls and run as far as she could as fast as she could. Instead, she let the man lead her outside, his hand falling onto the same spot on her back where Dean’s had been, but instead of making her feel safe and warm, she felt a distinct urge to take a shower. For at least an hour.

The vamp led her out a side door into an alley, and she tensed, not seeing Dean or Sam anywhere. His hand tightened on her waist and she wished her dress gave her the option of a thigh holster or knife sheath, but no such luck. She was lucky it held in all her body parts.

Ali felt her heart starting to race, and she knew the vamp could hear it. He stopped, turning her to press her against a wall, hand coming up to cup her face. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was a nice seduction technique, but she knew he was just trying to control her movement so he could feed on her more easily.

As soon as he leaned towards her, she closed her eyes, but he never closed the gap. She heard a swish and peeked through her eyelids to see his head bouncing to the ground. Dean’s machete was dripping with blood and his eyes were fierce, eyeing the shadows as several other vampires emerged, fangs extended and hunger in their eyes.

“Here!” Sam called, tossing Ali her own machete. She tried to plant her feet, but the heels on her feet made it hard for her to find her stance, especially with all the gravel and sand in the alley. The vampires noticed and pounced on her so fast she didn’t even have time to take a swing.

One of them bit her, even as blood spattered her from the decapitations happening all around. She felt herself falling, blood loss making her feel weak, and the last thing she heard was Dean’s voice calling out her name.

 

* * *

 

When she came to, she was back in the Impala, head pounding and coat draped over her legs. She sat up, groaning a little as she touched the wound on her neck. She wasn’t bleeding, but she could feel the tangles in her hair where the blood had dried.

Sam was driving, and she could feel Dean’s eyes on her as she pushed her hair out of her face.

“Where are we?” she managed to mumble, tongue feeling thick in her mouth. Dean pressed a bottle of water into her hands and she swallowed some, throat tight and dry.

“On our way back to the bunker. You need time to heal, and there’s no better place for it.”

She nodded, a tinge of curiosity in the back of her mind, but it was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming desire to sleep. She had heard them mention the bunker, and how they had recently found it, but she hadn’t expected to see it any time soon.

When she woke again, she was being carried down a brick hallway that looked alarmingly like a hospital. Or a prison. Before she had completely processed what was going on, she started kicking and flailing, trying to get away.  
“Ali,” she heard Dean say, grunting as one of her fists connected with his chest. “Ali-cat, breathe. I’ve got you.”

She relaxed at his nickname for her, and he carried her in to a room, laying her gently on the bed. Looking around, she realized this was _his_ room. He disappeared for a moment, coming back with a first aid kid and some towels. She sat up, fighting the bone-deep exhaustion she was feeling.

He took out some alcohol and gauze and, even though she knew what was coming, she winced at the burn on the cut on her neck. She pulled away, holding her hand out to take the gauze from him and he sighed.

“Can you just let me take care of you?” he muttered, but he handed her the gauze anyway. She pressed it to the wound, hissing at the pain. Dean stared at her, green eyes blazing, but he held his tongue, hand falling to rest on Ali’s knee. He held out a bandage and she took it, but she couldn’t get it placed right, since she couldn’t see her own neck.

Dean took it from her, rough fingers gentle on her skin as he smoothed it down. When he was done, he didn’t pull his hands away. His fingertips trailed down her neck, ghosting over her collarbones. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so tired. Her head was still spinning, but those eyes were keeping her tethered to something.

“Can I tell you something?” she said, feeling suddenly bold. All it took was a little blood loss. Dean tilted his head to the side, nodding slightly. She leaned toward him, ignoring the wave of dizziness that swept over her at the motion. “I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” she whispered, as close to his ear as she could reach.

His eyes widened, and he pulled his hands back from her neck faster than she could blink. “You need to rest,” he said, pulling back the covers to tuck her in like a child. He slipped her feet out of her uncomfortably tall shoes and tugged the blankets up to cover her.

“Doesn’t make it not true.” The effect was somewhat lessened by the fact that her eyes were already closing as she said it.

“Go to sleep, Ali-cat,” he said, smoothing her hair down as she slipped away.

 

* * *

 

She woke up a few times during the night, to see that Dean was sitting beside her, focused on his laptop and not looking at her, but still there. He woke her up periodically to make sure she didn’t have a head injury, but neither of them really thought she did. She was just glad he stayed. His warm weight beside her made her feel better, safer.

In the morning, she woke up for real, Dean was nowhere to be seen, and the memory of what she had said came rushing back. Her cheeks heated, and she groaned, pressing her face into the pillow.

“Ali?” she heard Dean say, and she lifted her head to see him, wrapped hastily in a towel and dripping water all over the floor, concern etched on his handsome face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, letting her face fall back onto the pillow. How was she supposed to face him after last night?

“Ali,” he said again, voice gentle. “Please look at me.”

She turned to look at him and he sank down on the bed beside her. “Can we just never talk about it? Is that an option?”

He smiled softly, but shook his head. “I think we have to.” She sat up, head still throbbing a little, but much better than the night before. “Listen, you had blood loss. You might have hit your head. You’re not responsible for anything you said. It’s like being drunk.” Ali bit her lip. “But now, I think you’re out of danger, at least as much as you can be, so let’s just put it behind us.” She nodded, but he cleared his throat. “Unless,” he started to say, eyes flicking down to her lips.

“Unless?” she asked, and her heart started to race like it had in the alley the previous night, though for a completely different reason.

“Unless,” he said, voice somehow getting even deeper. “You meant it.”

Ali shivered, though the room was warm. “Meant what?”

“This dress,” he said, finger tracing the hem and sending sparks up her spine. She had forgotten she was still wearing the tiny piece of silver fabric, but the feeling of his hands on her thighs made warmth spread through her whole body. “You said you bought it so I could take it off. Did you mean it?”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his, watching his pupils dilate with desire. She nodded, just once, and Dean grinned, fingers pushing the dress up her legs. His hands traveled up her sides, circling to her back to tug the zipper down.

The sleeveless dress slipped down, revealing the fact that Ali wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. Dean growled against her skin, pressing rough kisses to her collarbones, then down to the swell of her breasts. His stubble scratched against her as his teeth sank down on her nipple, making her gasp.

He peeled the dress down the rest of the way, letting out a low breath when he saw she wasn’t wearing any panties either. His eyes flashed up to meet hers as he nudged her onto her back, and he raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she said, blushing again. “That dress is _really_ tight.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing her hip bone. “It was killing me all night.”

She ran her fingers through his short hair. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He nipped at her inner thigh, making her draw in a sharp breath. “I didn’t want to push this on you.” He lifted his head, centering himself between her legs. She could feel his warm breath on her skin and she squirmed beneath him. “But then, you said what you said, and I had to know for sure.”

She was about to reply, but he chose that moment to touch the tip of his tongue to her clit, circling it around the spot that made her tense, fingers gripping his scalp in a way she was sure was painful for him. He pressed a finger against her entrance and groaned a little when he felt how wet she was.

“Is this for me?” he asked, curling his finger inside her and drawing a low moan out of her. All she could do was nod, and he grinned, adding another finger. Her back arched off the bed and she felt one of his large hands pressing down on her stomach to bring her back down. He didn’t stop lapping at her with that incessant tongue and stroking her in just the right way until she felt her body climbing towards a climax. He could feel her muscles tensing and increased the pace until she was falling over the edge, aftershocks trembling through her as he straightened.

His towel had slipped off and her eyes went wide as she took him in. He leaned down to kiss her, and she could taste herself on his lips. She took him in her hand and he sighed, hand tightening in her hair.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked her, eyes focused on her even as his hands shook with the effort of not touching her.

“Dean, please,” she murmured, lifting her hips to feel his skin against hers. He grinned again, leaning over her to open a drawer and pull out a condom. He rolled it onto his length and she felt him pressing at her entrance. He pushed inside and she let out a breath, Dean stilling to let her get used to his size before he started to move.

And oh, god, when he started to move. Ali was sure she had never felt so full before. If he wasn’t so gentle with her, he would have broken her in half.

But he was gentle, slowly sliding almost all the way out before pressing back in. Her hands grasped the blankets and she heard a keening cry coming from somewhere before she realized it was coming from her. Dean gradually picked up the pace, slamming into her until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.

She felt herself rising towards another climax, walls tensing around him and she collapsed over the edge again, his name on her lips. He thrust again and again, until he grunted and tensed, body relaxing to fall onto her with a groan.

He rolled off to toss the condom in the trash, before joining her in bed again. He pulled her to his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“So, I’m thinking,” he said, and she looked up to face him. “You should definitely wear that dress more often.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! It wouldn't go away until I wrote it, so I had to post it for you guys. I kind of fudged the timeline and some of the recovery time, but I hope you'll forgive me for that. Let me know what you think!


End file.
